


Throw Me Away

by bardicnonsense



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:45:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bardicnonsense/pseuds/bardicnonsense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sitting behind a bar for the span of most of your life wasn't many Ghouls idea of fun. It was just business. After all it was dog eat dog in the Capitol, that'd been the phrase since before the War. But with her down here, could something change?</p><p>AN// Originally this started as a joke on FF.Net to be the first under Ahzrukhal's name, but then people liked it, and since then i've really become attached to the pair, and recently i've decided to continue writing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Part I  
  
    The Smoothskin had been around a few times. She wasn't the best kind of person to be associated with in the Wastes. She was known for everything she'd done. About the only humane thing she did was work on Project Purity and annhilate the Enclave, but that was only in honor of her father. It'd been a rumor she was a part of Talon Company, but she had later explained that she and the Commander were an item, for a few months anyways, until they had a mutual breakup. Apparently they were tired of eachother. She had said something to that effect. It was unbelievable that the man could let her go, she was an absolute pristine woman.  
  
    She had the appearence of a Pin-Up girl from the PreWar days, even through the dirt and grime she retained her beauty. Long maroon hair and deep gray eyes with a light tan on her pale complexion,  big plump rosy lips, a thin waist and wide hips, not to mention she was extremely busty. Such high rate eye candy waltzing about Underworld was unheard of in every walk of Wasteland Life. Yet it was here she had made a nice little home with the Ghouls of Underworld. Though her low-spoken word and rumor accounts for her misdemeanors had made it as far as the depths of D.C. she would never act out around the Ghouls. She could have a slight affection for them maybe. Or so it would seem, one could only assume what went through the woman's muddled head.  
  
    "C'mon Charon, talk to me baby." She crooned from across the room to the ever stoic gaurd located in the corner, who remained so. Quiet and unmoving. It was a wonder he could ignore the woman throwing herself at him time and time again, it was only he who had her attention in such a manner. The other Ghouls would only have civil conversations, if they had the balls to of course. "L....Lorelei..." A drunkard Ghoul nudged the human beside him. "Patchington?" She smiled, beaming her attention at him. "You.. you have a... line of Vodka.." Patchwork's eyes lazily looked over the woman as he pointed to her chest, a drop of alcohol had fallen forgotten against her breast. "Oh thankyou dear." She preened to him as she leaned down and licked it off, provacatively.  
  
    She laughed it off before taking another shot off her bottle. "Ahzrukhal! This watered down? I never spill my drink!" She looked to the barkeep and raised her glass and he cracked a thin broken smile. "I would never soil my beverages to my beloved customers." He replied looking over his terminal as he pecked away an entry. He had taken to keeping personal thoughts and tabs on customers and visitors of the bar. He had recently begun his article about a particular smoothskin, Lorelei.  
  
    "Sure! I believe you!" She stood from her seating and moved towards the bar, her hips swaying in the most alluring way. Charon eyed her, along with most of the patrons of the Ninth Circle. She leaned over the counter just as the Barkeep finished the text about her, shamelessly backing out of it into another one as he began another passage. His milky eyes slowly drank in her appearence as her body edged a little further over the counter, lifing her breasts to expose the multitude of cleavage she was accustomed to flaunting. "Ahzrukhal dear, how has business been lately?" She pried, cooing to him gently. Her lips edged in a sweet smirk, her red lips shining even in the slightly dimmed light of the Ninth Circle.  
  
    It was a little thing Ahzrukhal had missed since the War. "It could be much better my dear." Spending most of his time with Ghoul women who didn't give a flying fuck about their appearence had given him an attraction to smoothskins. Although, most Ghouls had refused their sexual urges or thoughts, or they'd completely forgotten. Ahzrukhal on the other hand, had embraced it, thinking it was the only thing keeping him sane, the only thing he would think about other than getting his way, or getting his money. All very selfish intents, but then again, it is dog eat dog out there after all. And that is painfully clear.  
  
    "Well hun, I'll be leaving in a week or so for a little expedition to help out Winthrop, I know a few places, and I could escort some more Ghouls here if you'd like. Rush the business.." Her voice was so tantalizing to his ears, he could hear a hint of sexual innuendo as she spoke. But that was honestly her voice, but it never stopped the wandering minds. "I wouldn't want to impose on your adventures Lorelei." Ahzrukhal purred in response, his gaze moving to hers fully now. Concentrated on her eyes. The silver gray of it glinting in the lights. "You couldn't impose even if you tried dear." She moved away from the counter, straightening her posture and looking over her shoulder, Charon's direction as she always had.  
  
    "Well.. Ahzrukhal, i'll see you later." She winked and turned on her heel and left the Ninth Circle without another lit word from her lips. Ahzrukhal felt the temperature in his suit drop dramatically with her disappearance. No doubt he was attracted to this Smoothskin, too bad he couldn't have her. Too bad she was a tease. He laughed a little as he returned to his terminal, typing away at the entries and helping his customers to their drinks until closing, when he shooed them all off.  
 


	2. Chapter 2

Part II  
  
    The week fleeted past quickly, the Wanderer making her rounds through Underworld, all business as usual, a drink here and there, prodding and flirting with the Bouncer, and teasing the Barkeep. Every time she walked in she was wearing a new clean outfit, showing off every curve of her body. Ahzrukhal could hardly keep his eyes off her, she knew how to get under his skin and she exploited it. She was a woman, of course she did, but he didn't mind. He took what she gave without pushing it away, it was welcome, hell after 200 years of never being touched, you'd welcome it too.  
  
    Ahzrukhal looked over the shot of whiskey turning the glass in his hand looking over the brown liquid. "Could I get that hun?" That smooth sensual voice interrupted his contemplation. His milky eyes rose up following every delicate curve of her voluptous body hungrily. "Of course, I hope you take care of that tab soon Lorelei." He crooned forming a smirk, it hadn't faded in the Ghoulification, he kept what little he had immaculate as possible. Ahzrukhal was a stickler for appearence, a perfectionist even. For himself and more so for others. He felt his temperature rise as her fingers gingerly brushed against his own, pulling the glass from his grasp. She took it slow, letting it grace her plump lips as she drank.  
  
    "Ahzrukhal. Could I ask you something? Personal.." She purred a little looking over the last sip of her beverage. Raising what was left of his eyebrow, Ahzrukhal leaned forward resting his crossed arms on the counter. Tilting his head as he spoke, "Of course." She smiled and followed his example, leaving little space between the two. He could feel her breath on his lips and the scent of the fresh whiskey in the space between their mouths. "Have you ever, been in love?" She rested her face in her upturned palms looking over him. If Ahzrukhal had enough skin, his face would have turned a lovely shade of red. "Love? I find that to be risky business. I don't believe I personally have ever found the one, the one every one speaks of I mean. I suppose I shouldn't have been so picky when I had skin. Perhaps, solitude is best. I certainly find it to be so." He looked over her face as she mused. He smiled a little before continuing.  
  
    "But you my dear, you must find it hard to be alone. Men must flock to you." She laughed a little and finished off the shot and placed it on the somewhat clean countertop. "It's funny you should mention that." She looked over his features with a glazed look in her eyes as she spoke. "See, I've gotten to the point that, I want something real. Not a fling. Not a sweet heart. Not just a good fuck, and not good to look at. I want a real man, the one that'll be in bed with me the next morning. One that'll abuse me when I need it, you know what I mean?" She spoke heavily, each word dripping in tension and sexuality. She was glazed over drunk and it showed. She was finally spilling her guts like so many before her had at that same bar.  
  
    Ahzrukhal swallowed, his throat had suddenly become as dry as the Mojave, it was far more than uncomfortable in the bar. There was a sweltering heat across his skin, blazing a trail through his exposed flesh. He quickly quenched his throat with a shot of whiskey before looking over the vexing paramour leaning on the bar before him. He cleared his throat before letting his rasping voice become audible. "Like that man, that Leader of the Talon Mercs you mean? You miss him?" Ahzrukhal spoke, all the while trying to calm his nerves. It was her voice and even more so appearence, possibly even the soft hints of attention here and there that got to him. He wasn't sure any more.  
  
    "The Commander? Fuck no. I dropped his ass, don't even get me started on that trash." She snarled to him, if looks could kill, some one would be dead. "Then what are you getting at Lorelei?" Ahzrukhal spoke up, his dignified nerves creeping over him once more, dousing the pained hunger in his body. She smiled, her lipstick glinting in the lighting of the bar as she leaned in ever so slightly closer to him. "I want a man that's seen it all. Fucked some shit up, lived to talk about it. A Ghoul you know?" With as quick as she leaned in, teasing his ears once more, she pulled back and looked over her shoulder, glancing at Charon. The tension in the room had suddenly become thick.  
  
    Ahzrukhal felt his breathing hitch for a moment when he saw she was gawking at Charon. A man that wouldn't know what to do with a woman like that. His skin boiled and ached for the slightest recognition. The teasing woman had made it very clear she wanted the damned Ghoul in the corner. And it pained Ahzrukhal's black and evil little heart. He took another shot of whiskey, he'd need it tonight. There was no way he'd get the smoothskin off his mind tonight. "Well, hun. I'm going to be gone for awhile... so don't wait up for me. I'll be bringing back a few more patrons for you." Ahzrukhal looked up from his glass, the woman standing a little shakily.  
  
    "Don't let me keep you." His voice retained it's appeal of a rough dignified goodbye. It was hard not to snap at her for teasing and taking away like she had. The barkeep watched her leave with a scowl painted plain as day on his face. Most couldn't tell it was there, his fellow Ghouls recognized it like the burning sun it was. They steered clear for the rest of the night. Leaving Ahzrukhal to his own devices, namely the terminal as he pecked away his recent dealings with the Smoothskin. How he had decided he was absolutely finished with her and would pay her no mind, no matter what.  
  
    Ahzrukhal closed up the bar and the patrons left to find their beds as midnight creeped upon the Capitol wastes. He made himself comfortable in his bed, resting his hands behind his head staring over the ceiling paint peeling off overhead for what seemed like forever. It would be awhile before any of the Ghouls would see her again, she was leaving at day break. As sad as it was for some of them, Ahzrukhal couldn't help but smile. This absence was exactly what he needed. He had no place in that callous woman's heart, no. Charon might, and she knows how to get the contract, and then they  can dance off into the sunset and leave him in peace. Solitude was what he knew best after all. With that, he let his tired eyes close and rest. Falling asleep, the smoothskin barely noticeable in his head.


	3. Chapter 3

Part III  
  
    The next morning followed as usual, same routine, same breakfast, _same peeling Ghouls_. Although the Smoothskin was gone just as she promised, Ahzrukhal could feel her lingering presence in the little spaces she occupied before she left. Her essence was still in the bar and frankly, it was intoxicating the barkeep. There was no way he could forget about those big shining silver eyes taunting him or her shining lips in that smirk when they spoke, the things she spilled to him. Ahzrukhal hadn't felt this helpless since, well ever. He got what he wanted, even if he had to take it. But this, this was something one could not simply take or earn. It could only be given, and he smiled, knowing he'd never get it. No. Not him, not now or ever.  
  
    "Ahz...Ahzrukhal.. could I get some you.. your Jet? Snowflake.. he's.. got me to get it.." Patchwork  had stumbled over to the bar with the caps held loosely in his fist, speaking lowly. After holding himself up with the countertop as support he offered the fistful to the Ghoul before him. The barkeep looked over the drunkard's form and snorted a little, taking the currency from his hand and shoving it into his pocket. He followed this by casually surveying the patrons, his paranoia kicking in, he made his way to the wall safe and dug about for a moment, opening a small box with the inhalers full of that special concotion. He took one and locked the safe back tight before handing it to Patchwork. "Here, now go on." Ahzrukhal gave his signature smirk and watched the Ghoul leave the bar before turning to his terminal.  
  
    His glazed milky eyes looked over the entries, that woman's. Lorelei, each day she came in there was a log. Each one filled to the brim of his personal thoughts of the smoothskin. He smiled reading over them, some had been so long ago and yet the memories lingered as though it was yesterday. One incident in particular caught his thoughts. The Christmas Party.  
  
    _The little Pre-War night and day party the Ghould kept alive by getting drunk off their asses and sleeping where they fell through their drunken stupor. Ahzrukhal felt the sense wash over him as if it were yesterday._  
  
 _Like every year, he started off the night by cleaning up the counters with a more clean than usual rag. The Ghouls began streaming in, ordering their usual blends, taking seats, talking. It was this time of year he adored, this time of year he was allowed to join in the festivities. Or so he told himself. Being drunk constantly simply isn't allowed for this barkeep. Unless the time frame allowed it of course. It was only this time of year that he would allow himself to fall over the edge into a well induced stupor like his fellow Ghouls._  
  
 _Something out of the ordinary sauntered into the bar, the smoothskin. She was clad in a skin tight red, pre-war dress. She held a bottle of Vodka in hand as she passed through the crowd of Ghouls, finding her way up to Ahzrukhal. The barkeep continued his rituals, cleaning, serving, keeping the overall mood at an acceptable level. "Ahzrukhal. I brought you a gift for this fine occassion." The Ghoul looked up to the seductive voice, following the curve of her red lips to her piercing eyes, the temperature in the room sky-rocketed. He was already a little tipsy, teasing was not something he wanted tonight. As of this day she had been here for three months._  
  
 _"Why thank you dear." His voice rasped as she offered up the bottle, placing it on the counter, taking a seat at the barstool, the radio playing out the usual tunes. "Anything for you hun." She replied, watching him work. Ahzrukhal could admit, this was a bit unusual, there was no doubt about it. Perhaps she too, was tipsy. Or well on her way to being completely belligerent. No telling really, everyone holds their alcohol differently. Ghoul and smoothskin alike. He continued about his business until around midinight, most of the patrons had either left for food or passed out where they fell, leaving Ahzrukhal and the Smoothskin the only semi-conscious in the room._  
  
 _"Ahzrukhal.. could I get a shot? And you really should try that brew. It's from Maryland." She smiled, her lips glistening in that red shade, mirroring the traditional reds and greens used in the PreWar days to celebrate this long forgotten routine. "Is that so?" The barkeep poured two glasses of the new Vodka, sliding one to her. He looked into the glass's contents, reluctant to drink. His eyes returned to hers and she offered her glass, as cheers. He smiled and obliged as they both slowly downed the drinks. It almost set him over the edge as he leaned over the counter, resting his elbows on the clean counter. Lorelei looked over the radio and turned it down, much to Ahzrukhal's displeasure. She knew that._  
  
 _"Shhh.. c'mere.. I want to tell you something.." She smiled, the sound of her voice promising pleasures and flirtation. Coaxing him to lean towards her, he followed. How could he not, as drunk as they both were, if someone told them to strip, they'd do that too. He looked into her eyes, as if looking for another person through the shining pools of color. He let her gingerly take his rough marred face in her hands. Her smooth and soft hands, unmarked by gripping her weapons in the wastes, hard working or anything. She was a free pass to a reminder of the World long gone. Ahzrukhal could see her perfectly in that world..._  
  
 _He sat at home, looking over the newspaper, his clean hands, covered with skin, scratching at his chin. "Darling." That voice called to him, a female, using a term reserved for married couples. After neatly folding his paper and placing it on the end table, he looked up to see no one there. His house with well furnished objects, clean carpets, decorated walls. No one there. "Darling, come here.." He moved through the house, passing a mirror in the hall, he froze. His face, his skin, his rust colored hair in a perfect coif. "Darling please." The voice beckoned him further, down the hall through the dining room into the kitchen. And there she was._  
  
 _Lorelei, dressed in a clean pressed green dress, her apron colored with various ingredients to foods. She was kneeling before the oven, a burnt roast in a pan which she held ever so gently in her hands, protected by her apron, avoiding the heated metal. "L-Lorelei?" He whispered approaching her kneeling at her side. "I'm so sorry darling, I was preparing the pie you like, and I got carried away and forgot about the roast, and then the dog was hungry. Honey i'm so-" Ahzrukhal could stand it no longer, he let his lips wrap around hers, taking the sweet redness under his lips, he could faintly smell cherries. His favorite._  
  
 _A soft nibble from the opposing female carried him back to now. He pulled away from the kiss slowly, opening his milky glazed eyes. A satisfied smoothskin sitting before him. Never taking his eyes off her, he realized, he stole the kiss whilst daydreaming of the old world. He had never been back in his own home. Never walked into the kitchen with this woman cooking him dinner. "Hey Ahz.." He looked up from the bar and to the woman. She was practically glowing and it wasn't radiation from the alcohol. "Don't tell anyone about this.." She hiccuped a little before continuing. "Oh.. and you are the best kisser ever. Even for a Ghoul, you beat smoothskins hands down." She smiled and layed her head down on the counter. She nodded off, leaving Ahzrukhal to drink down a few shots before making his way to his room, to go to sleep in some comfort._  
  
 _But something nagged at him. What had she said while he was basking in Pre-War fantasies?_  
  
    He smiled a little. To this day he still didn't know. He could hardly help the fact that she still hadn't left his thoughts. She stayed there like the plague, dug in deep through his irradiated skin like a tick. Bloodthirsty and starving she made her way through right into his mind. And she made a home there. It was a funny little thing. This attraction to smoothskins. It had never been this bad though, not any day had it been this bad, the incessant burning in his core, the desire to hold her close, and inhale her very being. He wondered briefly as he played with the terminal, what would she smell of? Probably dusts, sweat and blood, like any other Waster that had passed through.  
  
    He relaxed his form a little and logged off the terminal, returning to business as usual, taking his place behind the counter as the usual flow of Ghouls wandered in for their daily dose of the best kind of poisons. His milky eyes took in the patrons, a few Ghoulettes looked his way, showing obvious desire. It was disgusting absolutely appalling. Ahzrukhal felt his stomach churn, not only were these women Ghouls, that wasn't what irked him, it was that they refused to even tidy their appearence in the slightest way. The entire City of Underworld, every female Ghoul held no ounce of self respect in their appearence. It was distasteful and grossly unappealing to him. Highstrung yes, high expectations, not normally, but it was hard to be attracted to anything but the past these days. And Lorelei? A prime example of that past he held so close.


	4. Chapter 4

Part IV  
  
    The stagnant air hadn't changed as the week passed by, the same off and on routine of underhanded dealings moved as they always had, the past 150 years was a never ending cycle of viscous boredom to the barkeep.  Several times he was put under the weight of thinking of the smoothskin, but not long after he was pestered by a few patrons who couldn't keep their lips sealed from the incessant flapping. They would not talk about the 9th Circle, no they would talk of Carol's place, and the demon that it harbored. That damned Greta, an old flame. Well not really, it was more of an arranged marriage. His parent's wanted to have a laugh, but as with much else, it was Ahzrukhal who had the last laugh.  
  
    He met Greta and he had a quick fling with the girl, taking all that she would give, and left her standing at the alter looking like a complete fool. It wasn't something he looked at proudly these days, but at the time it was the perfect idea. And even so, he wouldn't give up that time for all the Caps in D.C. The barkeep moved back and forth through the motions, avoiding too much contact with the other Ghouls, who seemed to be quite content with their yammering. Ahzrukhal pulled up the 'Back in 10' sign and left it on the counter, locking eyes with the menacingly tall ghoul across the room who nodded in response. Ahzrukhal left his place of business and headed for the outside to stand near the skull doorway and there she was.  
  
    A snarky glare trapped permanently on her face as she looked up with a cigarette between her ruined lips. The barkeep snorted as he pulled a cigar from his suit jacket's pocket, resting it tightly in his ruined lips. He lit it up and continued out the doors to sit on the stoop of the outside of the museum, his usual spot obviously taken by the bane of his existance. Well, one of them at least, always women too. He took a deep hit from the cigar as he reached the doors, the scent of radiation purged in the breeze as he took a seat, staring into the clouds, looking back on his past once more.  
  
    Greta used to be a pretty thing, curly hair reaching just below her shoulders, her eyes a blissful blue, her skin always seemed to be pink as if she'd seen something a bit risque. When he first saw her, all those years ago, he had a guttural feeling, distress, need and hate. As if she never wanted to be wherever she was. Making her appear angry at most times. Their introduction dinner, he got her name, using all of the most polite skills and quips he could muster. She fell for it hook line and sinker. He was quite a gentleman when he had skin, a ladies man. Yet there was never a woman that could actually satisfy his needs, his wants goals and aspirations. And Greta was definately not an exception. He used her up, and threw her away just as he had done so many times before with the rest.  
  
    Ahzrukhal took another hit off of his grade A cigar, his face clouded in the smoke as he exhaled the fine dust. After the War, after his Ghoulification, he made his way to the only place he could think of, and he remained to this day. She came in, a month or two after, peeling away, wisps of hair falling at a whim. She saw him and looked away in a biting anger, stomping off to what used to be the ladies restroom. Right now, Ahzrukhal laughed at the memory. That expression was the turning point of their Post War relationship. By the defining glare she wore, he could tell anyone the kind of mood she was in. And he was always, spot on.  
  
    Ahzrukhal let his mind drift into the distance, the hulking figures of super mutants wandering just in the distance. Lorelei.. that smoothskin must be a pretty penny away from here, no doubt being the menacing rascal she is. His thin, ruined lips upturned only for a moment as he thought of her evil state, running rampant through various places, marauding and pillaging on a whim. It was on her last trip, they learned that she had taken out the Brotherhood of Steel Citadel with an Airstrike. She said she'd grown quite tired of their bothersome chores, telling her that she absolutely had to, she had _no say for denying anything they asked_. She showed them _exactly_ how she could deny their petty chores. This earned a husky giggle from Ahzrukhal as he extinguished his cigar, standing to his feet, flicking the but out into the nearby pot that would have held a beautiful Ficus.  
  
    These Pre War memories had become quite adamant about showing lately. The barkeep moved inside, Greta already gone as he walked into the main corridor, entering the next room under the skull, he quickly made his way upstairs before becoming the victim of a staring audience. His paranoia began kicking in as he entered the bar, making his way behind the counter, taking a moment to himself he gathered his mind. Bringing it back to the present, to now. He pulled the break sign away and went about his business.

 

* * *

  
  
    _The air was a brisk temperature of 68, well below the usual. She moved silently across the cemetary, on her way to her local safehouse at the top of the hill in Arlington. The moon shown just overhead as she passed by the haunting pre-war markers, entering the house she had a gun shoved into her mouth. "Ahh, you.." She looked over the man, Junders Plunkett. A good friend of hers. He holstered his weapon and she slugged him in the arm. "You bitch, don't shove shit like that at me." She growled, a mistake he obviously regretted now. "Sorry sorry, them Regulators are after me you know.." He replied, heading towards the stairs to the basement, Lorelei just behind him._  
  
 _"Oh? If I take care of that, what would you be willing to do for me?" She asked, an obvious seductive tone, teasing even. "O-oh. Well, depends on what you need." He replied, taking his step off the stairs, moving across the room, taking a seat on his bed, looking over her figure. "Ahh, well, i'm looking into a few things for a friend of mine.. I can't give you the exact details, but I want some help.. you willing?" She took a seat beside him, behind half-lidded eyes, he couldn't even begin to read the extent of her thoughts. He didn't dare cross the Devil in Disguise. "Of course. You know i'm up for it all." She smiled gently and granted him a kiss on the cheek before taking her leave. She left the small house on the hill in the dust as she made her way north._


	5. Chapter 5

Part V  
  
    The rest of the month skipped by without much regret, it was now October and Lorelei was nowhere to be found, much to Ahzrukhal's disbelief. She never strayed away for more than three weeks. As he moved through Underworld he kept jerking at every corner, every misplaced sound, as if she would be there with that ever-seductive expression gracing her Pin Up face. He could practically see it, she would just saunter in like always, clad in a risque outfit she had picked up from the city ruins, her lips twisted in that thoughtful poisonous smirk. Her eyes hiding the real blistering evil in her core, and that walk she had. Ahzrukhal took a moment, staring off across the bar, his hands held neatly behind his back, the skin that was left felt clammy. He was nervous, jittery even. Worried perhaps. And all for what? A smoothskin.  
  
    He heard the gossip and payed no mind, that something had happened to her, even Three-Dog, that fool on the radio had lost any tracking worthy details of her deeds. The only way the barkeeper could actually keep up with her when she was away. Honestly, he was worried, where could she have gone? "Ahz.. rukhal.." A sloshy drunk voice spoke up, breaking his intense concentration. He looked to the Ghoul in front of the counter, an envelope loose in his grip. "What is this Patches?" He couldn't fathom a mail system even existing these days, who had the guts to do something like this? "It's from.. from Quinn's friend.. he dropped it off, from Lorelei.." Patches smiled, his teeth missing in places, he looked so drunk and out of it. But he knew that name was the magic word to the barkeep. Without hesitation, Ahzrukhal took the envelope and nearly tore it in two trying to get the well-penned letter out.   
  
    It took a moment for him to read it, he wasn't used to written text.  
  
 _Ahzrukhal,_  
 _I hope this reached you well. I thought I'd let you know I gave a group of Ghoulies directions with the safest route to Underworld, at least five or six new customers. I hope you can keep up with them, they're alcoholics, and I think one has a Jet problem worse than Snowflake. Also, I might have a dealer for Ultra Jet, he's a sweetheart, I'm considering escorting him and his 'Guard' to Underworld for a big meeting to get acquainted. It's up to you. Oh, and I have a new battle scar, you'll love it._  
 _P.S. Tell Charon I said hello~_  
 _Adoringly, Lorelei_  
  
    He nearly screamed. Not a _single_ hint as to where she was, nor any way he could contact her if need be. His eyes wandered as he put it away in his breast pocket, setting Patches up with something to drink. He couldn't believe it, was he seriously this irked? Was he mad? _Jealous_ even? And how do scars even pertain to anything? Damn, he thought, women have changed since the War. Seriously, what even connected all of this in her head? Was she messing with him? He couldn't take it, he lit up a cigar despite himself and continued working, relaxing as he drew in the Nicotine. Obviously he was overthinking this. The barkeep heard breathing and he looked up to see that damn bodygaurd of his, standing in the corner. Breathing. His fucking _breathing_. Ahzrukhal took a heavy huff of his cigar with his hands on the counter as he pondered his thoughts. He looked away to the radio, letting the puff drape from his nostrils, one of her favorite songs coming on. How could she even think of that man, that Ghoul Charon, why hadn't she just written _him_ a letter. No, of course being a woman she made him the delivery boy. Being the little tick she was, just pinching his flesh and digging in deeper. Ahzrukhal tried listening to the song, the words, trying to calm his temper.  
  
    His godammn _breathing_ , fucking Charon. Ahzrhukhal realized he was dangerously close to the butt of his cigar and stubbed it out and wiped his clammy palms on his pants. After taking a quick look see of inventory, he took to pouring a glass of Vodka for himself. _This was just another night he was going to have to drink himself into a stupor._ Another night of _forceful forgetting_ about a woman he couldn't have. Damn. _His breathing_. Ahzrukhal sighed, forcing it all away. He could hear Lorelei now, calling that gargantuan man in the corner by pet names. Flirting. And then, like always, turn to back to the barkeep and tease. There was no flirting involved, ever. Never would he consider it something it wasn't even close to. Apparently, he wasn't even in the same league, _which seemed impossible._ Damn if I had skin.. His brows furrowed together, his body heating, the warmth stinging at his skin. His breathing _again_.. He took a swing of the stinging liquid, canceling out the annoyance of that damned sound in the corner of his bar.  
  
    Fuck. Smoothskins, no scratch that, just _one_. Just _Lorelei_. Ahzrukhal let his hand creep along his chin, he felt tense, he needed to relax. It wasn't always like this he knew. He had never really been jealous, never truly. He had seen it, eat people up inside. He swore he wouldn't turn into that. He never swore though, that he wouldn't become an evil vindictive scum bag. And that, was what he truly prided himself over. But now, he wasn't so sure. This burning, it was eating him alive, and he was becoming a slave to it. But what else could he do? He couldn't get piss drunk and OD. That's just shameful and low class. After all, there is no need for a permanent solution to a temporary problem. And just as Ahzrukhal had finally brought his head back to level, _that breathing again_.  
  
    He quelled his conscience soon enough, taking smoke breaks and swigs as necessary until he found himself outside that night. He wasn't drunk, not really. He was mildly clear headed as he looked to the moon. It was a wonder that it's the same moon he had seduced so many women under 200 years ago. They all thought it was romantic and sweet, and it could only be true love. He had known all of the tricks to the trade. Well, before the War, these days, he wasn't so sure. Needs and desires were completely backwards now, weren't they? The clouds blotted the moon for a few moments, a shining gray that made him smile and his mind wander. The damn smoothskin made her way back into his head, he could practically see her. Approaching him and taking his cigar from his lips, taking a puff and blowing a kiss before leaving with it.  
  
    Had he not been hallucinating since his initial Ghoulification, he would have suspected that she was really there. His brain must have reacted differently to the radiation. He had always been a tad bit paranoid, but since that wall of change passed, it was an unsurmountable craze. He didn't mind it at first. But that was before Lorelei, his subconscious had a sense of humor, showing him what he wanted, what he couldn't have. Ahzrukhal shook his head, in an effort to clear hit thoughts. He tossed the burnt out butt of the cigar and stood, dusting off his slacks. Another night, marked by the presence of his image of the graceful evil. Lorelei. He opened the door, silently hoping, in the depths of his mind, that she might actually be his one day.  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Part VI  
  
    The days following were the roughest he'd had in awhile, his dreams either black and quiet or filled with the Old World and Lorelei's giddy sensual grin and giggles. Ahzrukhal rolled up his sleeves as he prepared the bar, cleaning up more than usual, leaving the counters as shiny and clean as they had ever been before. He looked for every menial task available, to get his mind off of the incessant thoughts that plagued him about that smoothskin. He was giving off a hot aura, most of the other ghouls steered clear.  
  
    A loud shriek made the Ghoul jump and nearly throw the glass he busied himself with cleaning. Charon eyed him in question, Ahzrukhal nodded at the door, allowing him to check out the noise and uproar.  He looked back to the counter, his reflection shining back, making him realize why he didn't clean them very much to begin with. After quickly adjusting his appearance, he  moved out of the 9th Circle, looking to the crowd of Ghouls near the statue. "What on earth is going on?" Ahzrukhal looked at his bodygaurd and he looked away. Something was not right. Without hesitation Ahzrukhal dashed down the stairs, pushing through the peeling ghouls to find the Doctor kneeling over...  
  
    "Lorelei." Ahzrukhal's throat tightened and his jaw dropped as he moved closer beside the Doc. "What happened!" He looked over her body, lacerations and cuts, bullet wounds and gashes. He let his gaze travel upwards, and there she sat. Her eyes bright and shiny, her lips in a devious smirk. "The Regulators don't play very nice anymore.." She let the doctor sew up her wounds on the spot, letting her lay there and breath. Ahzrukhal didn't care, he took a seat next to her and sat there silently, the other Ghouls making it a priority to look elsewhere. "Why are you playing death smoothskin?" He asked, his voice rasping it's usual way. He was noticably more relaxed, his breathing lighter and his muscles less tense. This damn woman had control over him, he hated it. But he couldn't stop it, didn't honestly want to. Any attention from this leech of a woman was welcome, good or bad for his health.  
  
    "Death, he's my best friend you know, he wouldn't betray me for the world." She smiled, her lips painted red. Blood or lipstick, Ahzrukhal wasn't honestly sure. "You had better hope so Lorelei." Ahzrukhal looked to the Doc, a bit of apprehension in his gaze, the Ghoul gripped what would have been the bridge of his nose. A habit he must have picked up before Ghoulification. "Why's that?" Lorelei sat up a little, the pain invisible in her face. "A lot of these have high risk at becoming infected, you will be getting plenty of bed rest. No questions asked." He warned looking to Ahzrukhal. "Could you help me carry her to the clinic?" Ahzrukhal would have snorted and turned him down, had it been any other smoothskin. Without an audible response he nodded and heaved Lorelei into his arms easily, without Doc. Barrows assistance.  Ahzrukhal fought the thoughts that proceeded to leak into his head.  
  
    This was the feeling he had in all those dreams, that apparition of this girl. His Pre War dream girl, his Post-Apocolyptic Pin-Up, and full time tease. He almost smirked as he lay her down in the clinic. "I suggest you follow the Doc's orders Lorelei." The barkeep rasped as he pulled away, his tie caught in her grip. She looked over his smokey colored eyes, deep into the pools of a mucky blue sea. Ahzrukhal felt his temperature rise as he allowed her to pull him closer. Without warning, she kissed him on the lips. Had the barkeep any skin left it would have been wrought in a pure crimson. He felt the warmth and softness against his rough lips and wondered how she felt. How it must feel to kiss a man as ruined as he. His stomach flipped in pride as he realized. It was he Lorelei was kissing. Not Charon, never Charon.  
  
    She pulled away, never letting loose his tie. "Open your eyes." She whispered, her tone as soft as a gentle tinkling bell. Without question, Ahzrukhal looked over the smoothskin, her red lips curled so perfectly. "Get back to work then." She released his tie and Ahzrukhal stood, a wily smirk across his lips. What had just happened? He walked out of the clinic, leaving the doors behind he adjusted his clothes, his body feeling fresh. Lorelei, she hadn't seemed that happy since the Christmas incident. Without much delay Ahzrukhal was found back at his daily duties, never being a shirker. The bar seemed much livelier now, and Ahzrukhal was simply glowing. The woman had done it again. He wondered briefly, as he mused all of his thoughts across the keyboard of his terminal. She brought him up so high, would she just let him fall again?


	7. Chapter 7

Part VII  
  
    The Ghoulish Barkeep closed up for the night, his mind relatively clear. Lorelei had been in the clinic for a few days now, she hadn't moved from the bed from what he heard. Ahzrukhal nodded to Charon, relieving him for a rest, something he hadn't given him in quite some time. Charon raised what was left of his eyebrow as his employer left. Ahzrukhal traversed the halls, many of the Ghouls making their way to their beds with the bar closed and such. The barkeep moved quietly, heading to the clinic, peeking in the glass to see Lorelei fast asleep, the Doctor at his terminal reading over a few things. Quietly Ahzrukhal pushed the door open stepping in, alerting the Medical Ghoul. "What brings you down here?" He inquired, looking over a clipboard. Ahzrukhal smiled a little, stepping up to the glass looking at the Ferals behind it. "Oh, checking on one of my best customers." The Doc tsked and looked to the other Ghoul. "I'm afraid for her. She hasn't said a word since we brought her in. She's stable but there's always a possiblity. No telling what those Regulators did to the poor smoothskin." Ahzrukhal shuddered inwardly.  
  
    Terrible woman or not, she was still a woman. And these Regulators.. They shouldn't have, rather they better not have. Ahzrukhal looked over the Doctor for a moment before letting his gaze slip to the human resting upon the bed. "Think she's conscious?" The barkeep rasped to the other Ghoul. He shrugged and sighed, thinking for a moment as he pecked away at his own terminal, the keys buttons faded, much like Ahzrukhal's own, he noticed. "She's stable, not conscious. She'd lost a lot of blood on the trip down here, and I'm almost positive the Mutants tried to make her into that.. what's it called, ah, Swiss Cheese?" He pinched the bridge of his would be nose as he rested his elbows on the desk. Ahzrukhal looked back to the Ghoul Nurse, who made an obvious glance towards him as she checked up on the smoothskin.  
  
    Ahzrukhal quirked a ruined eyebrow and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, looking to the window on the other wall, the Feral Ghouls housed behind it. He swallowed as he looked at them. Some times he felt pretty close to them. _Hate them_ , he thought, _and i'm getting closer to losing it like them with each passing day_. His head throbbed practically at the very thought. His radiation, and his current and painful leech, Lorelei, never one to improve the situation, wasn't exactly helping delay the process. With the Smoothskin in his thoughts he looked to her, in wonder, how long had it been since he'd protected anyone's skin but his own? He could have laughed at the thought of Chivalry, but.. This instance was a bit different.  
  
    The Ghoul sighed a little as he felt the room shift, as if the very air itself had changed. Nurse Graves slunk her way towards him, as she was now finished with her check up on Lorelei. "The little dear hasn't moved much since you brought her in, you know." She rasped, an arm over her stomach, the other behind her back. Ahzrukhal looked on for a moment before looking at the fem Ghoul, and he almost shook his head, "She'll pull through. Girl's stubborn you know." He let his eyes meet hers, and for a moment, he recognized the Ghoulette, had he known her before? When the World wasn't so shattered? He dropped the thought immediately and pat his coat pocket, _he had a cigar still_. With a light sigh, and a proper _excuse_ , the Barkeep let himself out, if not to get away from the Nurse. He moved across the entrance hall of Underworld, passing the statue and into the old ticket stand, and he left the building.  
  
    He stood there for a moment, his heart strained for a moment as he thought about Nurse Graves, how odd it was for her to act like that. He smirked, it's no surprise for the ladies to want me, Ghoulies anyways. He chuckled inwardly, and yet the little reassurance.. hadn't really reassured him at all. It was an odd thing, truly. He could remember the day the Ghoulette had come into the Museum, a broken and scared thing, nearly a full Ghoul as he recalled. She had mentioned something on the fact that she was relatively close to one of the bombing locations and it hadn't gone too well for the rest of her family. Ahzrukhal pushed the memory away, as reaching that far into his head was taking a bit of a toll on him. Women..  
  
    Back in the room Ahzrukhal had left behind, the smoothskin sat up suddenly, gasping for breath, her lungs stung as her eyes began watering, she felt like she was drowning, "Lorelei!" The Doctor squawked, rushing to her side his hands racing to her shoulders as he forced her back down, "You need to relax or you'll rupture the wounds! Stop!!" He rasped, forcing her to relax, she must have been reliving the instance of the fight prior to falling into Underworld. She said nothing aside from unintelligable whispers and pained breaths, "Relax!!" He urged, holding her down until her erratic movement ceased, he sighed, brushing his forehead with the back of his hand, releasing a sigh. "Unbelievable, you'd think  she'd be used to this sort of thing with all the trouble she gets into." He chuckled, looking over her as her eyes slowly slid shut. He tut-tutted between his broken lips as he made note of her recovery, her slight progress. It was a start.  
  
    Ahzrukhal slunk through Underworld, heading up the stairs, Snowflake in his sight, he approached the Barber and smiled a wiry grin, "Need something to do?" Snowflake grinned in response and motioned to the seat beside him, "Take a seat then." He rasped, Ahzrukhal followed the signal, and did so. "Just, clean it up." Ahzrukhal ordered tersely. It was hardly even a few minutes when Snowflake declared himself done, the other Ghoul handing off the caps with a slimy snarl. "Yeah yeah. Thanks." He prodded, turning to head back to the bar, "Hey." Snowflake stopped him in his tracks, Ahzrukhal's face tensed as he turned to face the man in pajamas. "What is it." He stated, he really didn't want to stand here, he had no reason to and that was just plain stupid. "Is Lorelei alright?" Ahzrukhal's throat tightened for a brief moment, "She'll be alright... she isn't so bad right now. You know she's a stubborned damned woman." Snowflake shook his head and sighed. "A'right."  
  
    The Ghoulish Barkeeper made his way back to his bar, the patrons suddenly scampering from his path, as always. He snorted and moved behind the counter, his hand searching the shelves beneath for a rag, to clean a few glasses. His eyes glazed over as he spaced out, turning the radio on. He thought fondly back, of how annoying Lorelei could be, when she would change his station and play with the radio, constantly, while she was staying here. Damned that smoothskin, on his thoughts again. How.. _dare she_.. kiss him like that! Why would she do that! Ahzrukhal chided himself, he _knew_ better, she was playing with him like he was her food. Catty _damned_ woman. _He_ , was the one who played with his prey, _he_ was the one who was in control, _he_ was the slimy bastard who plotted and got _his_ way. _He_ couldn't let her _do **this** _ to _him_! And yet... _he was_.


	8. Chapter 8

Part VIII  
  
    "No, she hasn't moved since the outburst. Not a single time, just her chest rising and falling." Doc Barrows murmured quietly to the Nurse. "She isn't cold, and she isn't in a coma, what else could it be?" The Doctor crossed his arms, rubbing his rough skin, turning to the glass in the room, the feral ghouls scritching around on the other side. "Simply blood loss? Brain trauma? It could be alot of things." The Nurse only sighed in response as she looked to the smoothskin, the pretty little thing that captured that asshole's heart. Funnily enough, she was an asshole too. Nurse Graves smiled inwardly as she walked over, pulling the blanket up to cover her still body. The girl was a nightmare, but she was still a patient, and she'd never done any wrong to the Ghouls, she hadn't any real reason to hate her.. except for.. no. It didn't matter, she reminded herself.  
  
    Underworld straggled right on through the week, usual tendencies and habits kicking in for the residents, as if there had never been a sign or stress of something happening. Almost. Ahzrukhal ticked away at his terminal, his thoughts erratic and concerned, his musings a mix of frustration and fear. The damned regulators, the mutants, and damned Lorelei. His temperature rose as his agitation followed, pulling off his jacket, he looked to Charon, the ever standing Ghoul in the corner. He snorted haughtily as he reminded himself he was better than him, that he was the one over him. Ahzrukhal turned his attention back to the Terminal as he mused over the happenings. He hadn't heard anything about Lorelei and he knew damned well that anything would be reported to him first.. he knew the Doctor was.. aware of his disposition towards the little demon.  
  
    Ahzrukhal's thoughts were imediately interuppted by the sudden clashing of a chair and a ghoul, "Patchwork." Azrukhal growled angrily, standing up straight, the Barkeep locked eyes with Charon and nodded his head, assistance or throwing out the drunk, Ahzrukhal left Charon the choice. Charon, being as he was, opted with choice to simply help up the ghoul, threatening him a little, scare him sober hopefully. Patchwork was beside himself, curling away from the much larger man, "H-hey you.. you don't have to act like.. like.. this!" He trembled as he shuffled out of the Ninth Circle, moving away from the place like it was the plague. His mind worked a little slow as he carefully manevered down the stairs and around the railing. He wanted to see the nice smoothskin, the only nice one in the whole city. And she wasn't even a ghoul. He pulled open the double doors, peering in, the Nurse busy at the terminal, the doctor working with another ghoul.  
  
    Patchwork moved and pulled a chair beside Lorelei, looking her over with a small dopey smile, what a gal. "H-hey Do.. she awake yet?" Patchwork hiccuped, touching Lorelei's hand softly, his rough fingers admiringly touching her near flawless- compared to his own mottled- skin. "She's having an odd difficulty coming to. We're testing her blood as we can to find the problem.." He responded from across the room. Patchwork sat for a minute, his brain trying to process what he'd said under his druken influence. Poor thing she was, he figured, no one in the Wastes but them ghouls to care for her.. "L-lorelei.." He murmured, softly patting her hand, trying to rouse her even a little, her hand twitched for a moment, before grabbing his, holding it. "D-Doc!! She's movin'!!" Nearly tripping over himself Doc Barrows made his way right over. "Move!" Patchwork choked as he demanded this, "I-I can't! She's holding mah hand!!" The Doctor gave him a narrow look as he observed this, watching her fingers tap along Patchwork's hand.. How odd.  
  
    Doc Barrows ushered Patchwork out after Lorelei released him, and wrote notes on this odd thing, trying to figure if she was consciouss or if this was only a muscle spasm, a reaction her brain used to test her body's motor skills, he wrote these things down, his brain droning on about these things. The day falls on as normal, Ahzrukhal chain smoking in his worry, his fingers working out his thoughts at his terminal, his head in a confused and worried ache. Between his paranoia and vicious worry over that woman, he was in a vortex of.. **fuck**. He groaned, inhaling deeply of his cigarette. This worry, this pain, all over her, it was nothing he wanted, this fear was something he despised. He thought so much of her and all she could do was tease him and bother him, he was an idiot. And he admitted it.. to himself anyways. Ahzrukhal sighed as he finished his latest entry, turning back to the bar with a sigh. This wasn't like him, he knew. I _'m a sleazy asshole who doesn't care for anyone but himself. Fuck.. that isn't so true, is it.. Ahz, old friend, you need to get yourself in check, straighten up. You're just as much of a man as you are a ghoul, so start acting like it._ He chided himself a few more times quietly, spacing out as he poured drinks for the patrons.  
  
    Doc Barrows calmly walked in, immediately locking eyes with the barkeep. Ahzrukhal imediately straightened up as he rolled up his sleeves, Doc standing at the counter, leaning over it with a sigh. "Well, she's awake, but only barely, she keeps asking for you." He whispered, what was left of Ahzrukhal's eyebrows raised, "Me?" He tilted his head, this was too much, she was awake and asking for him? He cleared his throat and nodded. "And I expect you'd like me to come down then?" Doc nodded and stood straight, leading Ahzrukhl to the door. After a quick nod to Charon, to keep an eye on the plae, he headed after the Doc, slicking his tufts of hair back with a sigh, his heart in a twist of worry and hope. He swallowed the taste of metal in his mouth and walked with Doc Barrows down the stairs. He stopped them outside the doors to the clinic and sighed, looking at Ahzrukhal.  
  
    "Her wounds aren't fully healed, so keep that in mind, do your best to keep her laying down rather than sitting up." Doc warned, Ahzrukhal nodded in his compliance before they opened the doors and walked in. Ahzrukhal was immediately presented with the scent of disinfectant and soaked bandages, a welcome change from the alcohol clouded atmosphere of his bar. His eyes quickly scanned the room and they fell upon Lorelei, laying in bed, Nurse Graves over her, checking her eyes and pulse, and he could hear her, whispering his name. The Nurse turned to the door and sighed, leaning down and whispering something to Lorelei, to which the patient smiled. Nurse Graves nodded at Ahzrukhal and the Doc, moving out of their way to see another patient.  
  
    Doc Barrows stood back, in case something happened, Ahzrukhal sat beside Lorelei and sighed, relaxing his nervous heart, trying to calm his worried brow. "You awake at all, Lorelei?" He rasped in a soft tone, the softest he could manage. God, was he being sweet? He inwardly growled, reminding himself who this pitiful looking woman was, this wounded creature was the Devil of the Wastes... and yet.. here, she was still a smoothskin.. "Ahz.." She tried, her hand reaching up for him, she pulled at the hanging tie from his neck, he leaned in as she pulled. "It's me.." He spoke in a more calmed, less sticky sweet tone. She smiled at this and sighed. "Ahzrukhal.. I need.." She sighed, as if taking time to make sure she spoke clearly. "Take your time Lorelei." He watched her lips move, it was odd to see her without her red lipstick, but the red had stained her lips a pleasant shade of pink.  
  
    "I have to leave.. _not die_.. but go.. _Out.._ " He tilted his head as she spoke, " What? Where?" He asked quietly, so as not to attract Doc's attention. She only shook her head, "I'll tell you when I can walk.." She gave him a little smile and released his tie, relaxing into the bed, her eyes closing as if dismissing him. Ahzrukhal stood wordlessly and moved towards Doc Barrows, who immediately questioned him on the nature of the conversation, worried about her mental health. "Well, she said she wants to go somewhere, but she wouldn't say where.. Said she'd move when she could walk." Ahzrukhal spoke calmly, his inner thoughts a vastly different turmoil, she wanted to leave again?! After being nearly maimed? What could possibly be that important?! He left the Clinic after Doc finished his questioning. The barkeep took his time heading back to the 9th Circle, his hands in his pockets as he calmed himself, clearing his head as well as he could.


End file.
